The sweetest form of the Lord is my Ramana

Look how you haunt me, and prevent me from doing self-enquiry.



A song from my childhood, comes back to me,

Who would have thought that God Almighty himself would have taken human form as a unclad ascetic, and that ascetic would be my beloved, my Father, my saviour.

Who would have thought that God Almighty would track me, follow me, and play with my heart in the form of a silent ascetic. And what a deceptively innocent face my ascetic who stalks me has, what childlike eyes. Eyes that leap across a century, filling me with joy and a desire to leave all, throw all away, including this worthless life and universe for one moment with You.

Will it always remain a mystery to me, or will I ever know ... whether you actually look at me through the twinkling eyes in these photographs. How my tiny soul is tortured by the promise of union with you, how painful the wait is.

Lord, when you created Mirabai, you created the perfect devotee, like yourself, people like myself are just cheap imitations, no matter how many lives pass, I will never equal your true ones. But like a flawed child, I love and need you. Your name and face are my only possible sustenance.

Nothing else can keep me alive.

Lord, nothing has any meaning for me, least of all this body and surrounding world. How many more days in this world, how many moments more ?

Beloved, I have put this in many ways before but this time I put it straight. When I looked into your eyes for the first time in this life, I knew I was staring death in the face. And for some strange reason, that death seemed more desirable than anything in the world. Three long years have passed since that wonderful day, I have died for that death, it was a death to kill for (sorry for the lame puns), death just looking into your sweet eyes, death by gazing at the Lord's dear face ... what a delicious end. Death singing your name with love ... for three years I have waited for you to scoop me up.


My Lord, you appear once in a thousand years, and deliver a few fortunate souls, leaving behind generations of tormented devotees, devotees who ache for lifetimes for union with you, but getting barely a glimpse.